Walking with God Daily

I have wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember.

Over the years, I have started plenty of books. I have pages of notes, unfinished drafts, and more ideas than I know what to do with. Sometimes I wonder if God is going to keep giving me book ideas until I finally finish one.

Finishing has always been the difficult part for me. I would begin a writing project feeling excited and inspired, but eventually I would try to include too many ideas and lose the plot. Other times, life would happen, another idea would grab my attention, or the size of the project would overwhelm me. I knew I wanted to write a book, but I had not yet learned how to stay with one long enough to complete it.

Earlier this year, I started developing an idea around what it means to walk with God daily. It was something I had been trying to do with greater consistency and intentionality in my own life.

Walking with God daily sounds like the easiest thing in the world—and sometimes, it feels like the hardest.

In theory, many of us are already doing it. We pray. We attend church. We read our Bibles. Those practices are important, but walking with God is more than completing a spiritual routine.

It is trusting Him when things do not look right. It is believing He can work everything together for our good, even when what we are experiencing does not feel good. It is obeying when He is not saying what we want to hear. Then it is choosing to do it again the next day.

Trust. Obey. Repeat.

It sounds simple, but it is much easier said than done.

I wanted to write a book that acknowledges how difficult this walk can be while reminding readers that it is still possible. Walking with God is not always a straight or predictable journey. There will be highs and lows, progress and setbacks, moments of confidence and seasons filled with questions. There will be times when we feel close to God and times when we have to intentionally find our way back.

None of that means we have stopped walking.

Walking with God Daily explores the situations we face in ordinary life: learning when to rest and when to be productive, recognizing growth, naming our feelings, navigating relationships, dealing with work, and remaining connected to God through it all. Along with personal reflections, the book includes practical steps and applicable tools to help readers live out what they are learning.

This is not a book about mastering the perfect Christian routine. It is about continuing to walk with God through real life—one decision, one act of obedience, and one day at a time.

And for the first time, I can say that I have completed the first draft of a book. I plan to finish the second draft by the end of this year.

Finishing this manuscript means more to me than completing a writing project. It represents learning to stay committed when the excitement wears off, continuing when the process becomes overwhelming, and practicing the very message I am writing about.

I am trusting God with this book. I am obeying His direction. And I am continuing to take the next step.

Trust. Obey. Repeat.

I am so excited to complete this work and, one day soon, share Walking with God Daily with you.

September

September has always been my favorite month. It’s my birthday month, fall is around the corner, and something about September has always felt like a reset.

Recently, I started seeing posts about September being a month of completion. Apparently, in numerology, the number nine is associated with completion, endings, and preparing for a new cycle. Now, I’m not looking to numerology to tell me what God is doing in my life, but the idea of completion caught my attention.

Especially because it reminded me of something I wrote on September 28, 2023.

At the time, I had come across 2 Corinthians 8:10–11:

“Here is my advice: It would be good for you to finish what you started a year ago. Last year you were the first who wanted to give, and you were the first to begin doing it. Now you should finish what you started…” — 2 Corinthians 8:10–11 NLT

I remember thinking, Where has this verse been?

I needed it.

I wrote in 2023: “I’m a great starter but not a great finisher.”

That used to be me.

I get excited about an idea. Then the ideas multiply. I start thinking about all the possibilities, all the different angles, all the ways I could execute it and eventually the excitement becomes overwhelm.

At the time, one of those unfinished things was my book.

I had started writing it a year earlier, and then my phone died. Everything I had written was gone. I was devastated, but if I’m being truthful, I was mostly mad at myself. I hadn’t properly saved what I was creating.

Still, I wrote something else that day:

“I want to finish what I start.”

Three years later, I’m reading those words differently.

Because I did go back.

I started again. I kept writing. I changed things. I added things. I wrestled with the direction more times than I can count.

But eventually, I had a completed first draft in my hands.

And maybe that’s what I’ve been learning about finishing: finishing requires you to stop being captivated by what something could be long enough to complete what it is.

At some point, you have to stop adding.

At some point, you have to finish.

Now, 2 Corinthians 8 isn’t about writing books. Paul was talking to the Corinthians about completing a financial gift they had previously committed to giving. But I love the principle in his instruction.

They had the desire.

They had started.

Now their completion needed to match their willingness.

Starting isn’t usually my problem. Maybe it isn’t yours either.

Maybe there’s something you were excited about in January that you’ve barely touched since March. Maybe there’s something God put on your heart that became complicated once you realized how much work it would require. Maybe you’ve convinced yourself that because you stopped, you failed.

Its ok.

Go back.

September doesn’t have to mean the year is almost over and you’re running out of time. There are still months left in this year.

That’s enough time to return to something.

Enough time to finish.

Zechariah 4:9 says, “The hands of Zerubbabel have laid the foundation of this temple; his hands will also complete it.”

I love that.

The same hands that started it can finish it.

So I’m asking myself a different question as I move through my favorite month:

What have I already laid the foundation for that it’s time to finish?

I’m not looking for something new to start.

I’ve got enough ideas.

This season, I want my completion to match my willingness.

Finish the work.

Until next time,

Dominique

Happy birthday to me! 🎉

Today is my actual birthday, and I am officially 41 years old!

My 40th year of life did not look the way I thought it would. When I was 39, I did all this preparing because I wanted my 40th year to be exactly what I imagined. But it didn’t quite work out that way. So many things happened that were completely outside of my control.

There were some great times, some incredible highs, and definitely some lows. I learned a lot of lessons. I dug deeper into my writing bag and honestly feel like I unlocked a new creative plane. I had some amazing opportunities at work. I finished the draft of my book.

And through all of it, I can confidently say that I am better than I was last year—even though sometimes it feels like I had to go through the fire to get here.

My word for 2026 was connection, and I’ve watched that word show up in so many different ways. But surprisingly, one of the biggest has been my connection with myself.

I’ve learned to feel my feelings instead of immediately trying to make them go away. I’ve worked on not being so hard on myself. I’ve started asking what’s underneath what I’m feeling and allowing myself to go beneath the surface.

Maybe 40 wasn’t the year everything came together the way I planned.

Maybe it was the year I came together.

As I step into 41, I’m praying that I can tie up some loose ends and go into 2027 with a clean slate and a head start. There are still a few months left in this year, and I believe a lot can happen in that time.

As always, I am grateful. Grateful for my husband, my children, my friends and family, my job, the opportunities I’ve been given, the lessons I’ve learned, and simply for life.

Here’s to 41. ❤️

What if this is Gods help?

“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.”
—Psalm 46:1 NIV

I prayed one morning and asked God to help me. If I am honest, the help I wanted was an immediate solution. I wanted everything to be fixed. I wanted the heaviness to lift, the situation to change, and everything to be okay.

That was not exactly what happened.

Instead, God sent help in pieces. People were reached. My husband recognized what I was carrying. I was given little reminders and small things that helped me feel better. Writing helped me process what I was feeling.

None of those things completely resolved the situation, but I could see that God was answering me.

His help simply did not look the way I thought it would.

I think we do this often. We ask God for help, but we already have a picture in our minds of what His help should look like. We want an immediate solution, but He sends an open door. We want the pain removed, but He sends someone who notices us. We want everything restored at once, but He gives us enough strength, wisdom, or peace to make it through the next few hours.

Then we overlook the help because it did not arrive in the form we expected.

I originally thought God’s help would mean changing the situation. Instead, some of His help came through changing how I responded to it.

I wanted Him to remove the sadness. Instead, He helped me recognize it before I redirected it into anger. He gave me the awareness to understand that picking a fight with my husband or focusing on something negative at work would not address what was actually hurting. It would only create another problem.

That was help.

At first, I did not think praying or writing had worked because I did not feel better immediately. In the moment, I thought, I did the thing, and it didn’t work.

A few hours later, however, I realized that I did feel better. Everything was not resolved, and I could still feel some of the heaviness sitting on my chest, but I felt calmer and more hopeful.

The change was not instantaneous, but it was happening.

Sometimes we expect prayer to work like a switch. We pray, and we think the feeling should immediately disappear. When it doesn’t, we assume God has not answered or that what we did was ineffective.

But processing takes time. Healing takes time. Even peace can arrive gradually.

God was not necessarily saying, “I am going to fix everything for you right now.” He was showing me, “Here are some things that will help you carry this. I am with you while you work through it.”

I know God will eventually work everything out, but I also understand that I have to be an active participant in my healing and in the character development He wants to do within me. I cannot ask Him to heal me while refusing to acknowledge what hurts. I cannot ask Him to develop self-control in me and then ignore the opportunities He gives me to practice it.

Sometimes God’s answer is not immediately making us feel better. Sometimes His answer is helping us respond better.

He may give us the self-control not to project our pain onto someone else. He may send someone who recognizes that we are struggling. He may give us the words to write, the courage to be honest, or enough hope to take the next step.

The situation may not be resolved yet, but we are calmer, clearer, more hopeful, and better able to move forward.

What if that is God’s help?

What if the answer is already arriving in pieces, but we have been overlooking it because it does not resemble the complete solution we requested?

God’s help may not always remove the situation immediately. Sometimes it strengthens us, steadies us, and changes us while we walk through it.

That is still help and that is still answered prayer.

Until next time,

Dominique

Stop Fighting Yourself

I have said before that going through something is harder when you are pretending everything is okay. Not only are you dealing with what happened, but you are also using energy to convince everyone around you that you are fine. You are fighting two battles: the actual pain and the pressure to hide it.

But I recently realized there is another layer to this.

Sometimes we stop pretending for other people but continue pretending with ourselves.

We finally tell someone, “I’m not okay.” We admit that something hurts. We pray about it, talk about it, or write it down. But internally, we are still resisting what we feel.

I shouldn’t be this sad.

I know God, so why am I still struggling?

I prayed about it. Why don’t I feel better yet?

We acknowledge the feeling with our mouths while internally demanding that it go away.

That is still a fight.

Recently, I had to be honest with myself about what I was feeling. I realized that it is easier for me to be mad than it is to be sad. Anger feels active. It gives me something to do, something to criticize, or someone to blame. Sadness makes me sit still and acknowledge that something hurts.

My initial thoughts were to pick a fight with my husband or find something negative to focus on at work. Neither of those things was the real issue. They would have just given my sadness somewhere else to go.

But before I went down that rabbit hole, I stopped myself.

No. That is not what this is really about. You are sad, and you do not want to be sad.

That recognition was growth.

I did not create another problem to avoid the original pain. I did not dress my sadness up as anger and hand it to someone else. I allowed sadness to be sadness.

Accepting what you feel is not the same as surrendering to it. Saying, “I am sad right now,” is not the same as saying, “I will always be sad.” Acknowledging an emotion does not mean building a home there. It means you stop arguing with what is already true long enough to understand it, process it, and allow God to meet you in it.

There is a progression to honesty.

First, we stop pretending for other people and admit, “I am not okay.”

Then we stop pretending with ourselves and admit, “I am sad, and I cannot rush myself out of it.”

Finally, we allow ourselves to feel the emotion without letting it control our behavior.

“The peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
—Philippians 4:7 NIV

We often think peace that surpasses understanding means we will immediately stop feeling sad, worried, or overwhelmed. But perhaps peace does not always mean the feeling disappears. Sometimes peace means we stop fighting ourselves while we feel it.

Peace may sound like:

This still hurts, but I do not have to make it hurt more by judging myself.

I am sad, but I do not have to turn my sadness into anger.

I am struggling, but that does not mean God has abandoned me.

I can feel this without becoming this.

Maybe peace begins before the sadness leaves.

Maybe it begins when we stop demanding that the feeling leave before we are willing to acknowledge it. We do not have to bully ourselves into feeling better or manufacture anger to feel stronger. We can tell ourselves the truth, choose not to project our pain onto someone else, and give healing the time it requires.

Sometimes healing begins when we stop pretending with other people. Other times it begins when we stop arguing with ourselves about what we feel.

Either way, we can remove one of the battles by telling the truth: This hurts. I do not like it. But I do not have to fight myself while God walks me through it.

Until next time,

Dominique

What Changes When We Trust God’s Character?

All month we have been digging deeper into why we think the things we do about God. Whether it’s because we assign human characteristics to Him or we hold on to things that happened that didn’t actually have anything to do with God, our experiences can shape how we see Him.

But as we close this series, I want to ask a different question:

What would change if we trusted God to be who He said He was and do the things He said He was going to do?

That sounds amazing, but it also requires us to relinquish the control that we often want to hold on to. Trust is about letting some things go and allowing God room to work things out for us.

If God says He is an ever-present help, what would change if we actually believed we didn’t have to figure everything out by ourselves?

If God says He will direct our paths, what would change if we stopped demanding to see the entire route before taking the next step?

If God says He can do exceedingly and abundantly above all we can ask or imagine, what would change if we stopped limiting our prayers to what seems realistic to us?

And if God says no weapon formed against us will prosper, what would change if we stopped treating every difficult season like proof that something has gone wrong?

Trusting God’s character doesn’t mean life suddenly becomes easy. It doesn’t mean we always understand what He is doing. It means that when we don’t understand what He is doing, we can still trust who He is.

That’s the difference.

We spend so much time trying to predict outcomes, protect ourselves from disappointment, and prepare for every possible scenario. Sometimes we call it wisdom, but sometimes it’s really our attempt to maintain control.

Trust says, I can do what God has asked me to do and leave the outcome with Him.

That kind of trust gives us peace because everything isn’t riding on our ability to get it right. It gives us hope because what we can see isn’t the limit of what God can do. It gives us confidence because God’s promises aren’t based on how we feel that day.

God doesn’t exaggerate. He doesn’t make promises He can’t keep. He isn’t like people who change their minds, hold grudges, withdraw their love, or say things they don’t mean.

He is who He says He is.

Maybe the work isn’t convincing God to show us that He can be trusted. Maybe the work is learning to release everything we’ve allowed to convince us that He can’t.

And then living like we believe Him.

Until next time,

Dominique

Why Does God Feel Distant?

Scripture tells us that God doesn’t move. He is our ever-present help. But why does it sometimes feel like our prayers are hitting the ceiling?

How can an ever-present God seem silent when we need Him most?

And maybe the bigger question is: What do we assume about God when He is silent?

We tend to fill silence with our own explanations.

God must not be listening.

Maybe He doesn’t care.

Maybe I did something wrong.

Maybe He’s disappointed in me.

But God’s silence doesn’t necessarily mean God’s absence.

Our feelings are real, but they aren’t always accurate indicators of God’s presence. Scripture tells us that God will never leave us or forsake us (Hebrews 13:5). Psalm 46:1 describes Him as “an ever-present help in trouble.”

So when I feel like God is distant, I have to decide which one I’m going to trust: what I’m feeling in the moment or what God has already told me about Himself.

There also isn’t one explanation for why God sometimes seems quiet.

Could there be times when God isn’t giving us a new answer because He’s asking us to walk in what He’s already shown us?

Think about a good teacher. A teacher doesn’t give students the answer every time they struggle with a problem. Eventually, the teacher expects them to use what they’ve already been taught. The teacher hasn’t abandoned them. The teacher has equipped them.

Maybe sometimes we’re asking God to tell us something new when He’s saying, I’ve already given you what you need for this.

Other times, He may be developing our patience or teaching us to trust Him without constant reassurance.

And sometimes, we simply won’t know why He seems quiet.

That’s where knowing God’s character becomes so important.

When God feels distant, we have to resist filling His silence with assumptions about His character.

If I don’t know why God is quiet, I can still know who God is.

I know He is good.

I know He loves me.

I know He hears me.

I know He has promised not to leave me.

I know His character doesn’t change just because my circumstances have.

Maybe faith isn’t always hearing God’s voice clearly or understanding exactly what He’s doing. Sometimes faith is continuing to trust what God has already said when He isn’t saying anything new.

So the next time God feels distant, instead of immediately asking, “God, where are You?” maybe we can also ask:

“What do I already know about You that is still true right now?”

His silence doesn’t get to redefine His character.

His Word already told us who He is.

Until next time,

Dominique

Who God Is vs. Who We Think He Is

One of the biggest challenges in our faith isn’t believing that God exists. It’s believing that He is who He says He is.

We often read Scripture with our experiences in mind instead of allowing Scripture to redefine our experiences.

God says He is patient, kind, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love. He cannot lie. His ways are higher than our ways, and His thoughts are higher than our thoughts. Yet many of us unknowingly assign Him human characteristics because that’s all we’ve ever known.

If your parents gave you the silent treatment, you may assume God’s silence means He’s angry with you.

If you grew up believing love had to be earned, you may spend your life trying to earn God’s approval.

If people have broken their promises to you, you may struggle to trust God’s promises.

If authority figures punished every mistake, you may believe God is waiting for you to fail so He can punish you too.

But God is not like man.

Yes, there are consequences for our choices. Scripture is clear about that. But God’s discipline is never revenge. Hebrews tells us He disciplines those He loves, and He does it for our good so that we may share in His holiness. His goal isn’t to shame us—it is to shape us.

Before I knew God personally, I believed in Him, but I didn’t believe He was paying attention to me. I thought I was just another person in a world of billions.

Then I read that He knows the number of hairs on my head.

If He knows something that detailed, how could He possibly overlook me?

Another question I’ve been asking myself is this: Were your parents grudge holders?

Some people grew up in homes where one mistake was brought up over and over again. Apologies were accepted, but the offense was never really released.

God doesn’t operate that way.

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9)

Notice what the verse doesn’t say. It doesn’t say He forgives us but keeps reminding us of it. It doesn’t say He forgives us but stays disappointed for a while. It doesn’t say He forgives us but makes us earn our way back.

When God forgives, He forgives.

Many of us continue carrying guilt that God has already laid down.

Maybe the greatest obstacle to knowing God isn’t that He is difficult to understand. Maybe it’s that we keep expecting Him to act like the people who hurt us.

The invitation of Scripture is to let God define Himself.

Not our parents.

Not our past.

Not our disappointments.

Not our assumptions.

So what do we do when we catch ourselves assuming God is like the people who have hurt us?

Pause.

When a thought about God’s character enters your mind, don’t automatically accept it as truth. Test it.

Ask yourself:

  • Is this actually true about God, or is this something I’ve experienced from people?
  • Can I find an example in Scripture that supports what I’m believing?
  • What has God consistently shown me about His character in my own life?
  • Am I interpreting God through my past, or am I interpreting my past through what God says about Himself?

If you think God has abandoned you, look at Hagar in the wilderness. God saw her.

If you think God is finished with you because you failed, look at Peter. Jesus restored him.

If you think God has forgotten you, remember Joseph. God was working even in the years that seemed silent.

If you think God doesn’t care about the details of your life, remember that Jesus said the Father knows every hair on your head.

The more we immerse ourselves in Scripture, the more we learn God’s actual character. Over time, His voice becomes louder than the voices of our past.

We all have experiences that shape how we see the world. But as followers of Christ, our experiences don’t define who God is.

His Word does.

Why Do We Believe These Things About God?

Over the last month we’ve talked about some questions many Christians quietly wrestle with:

Is God mad at me?

Is God tired of my prayers?

Did God leave me on read?

How do I hear from God?

While these seem like separate questions, I’ve realized they all come from the same place. They reveal what we believe about God’s character.

Nobody wakes up one day and decides God is annoyed with them. Those beliefs come from somewhere.

• Past experiences.

• Disappointment.

• Unanswered prayers.

• Relationships.

• Church experiences.

• Expectations that God never promised.

Before we can answer how to hear from God or trust Him when He feels silent, we have to examine the picture of God we’ve been carrying around. Because sometimes the biggest barrier to connection isn’t God’s distance from us, it’s our misunderstanding of who He is.

We will talk this month on how we put human characteristics on God or how trust changes everything. Do we approach God like a genie wanting him to grant our wishes but not deal with the things he asks of us? The more we know Gods word and know his character we can focus on what He says and not our circumstances. If you think God is mad do you move further away and distance yourself from him or move closer? He wants us to be close to him, so anything keeping you away is not him.

This is why we talked yesterday about reading your bible, you. can’t get to know God if you don’t know His word, you won’t know His voice.

We will dig deeper this month but in the mean time ask God to help you identify things that are keeping you from being as close to him as you want to be.

Until next time,

Dominique

Reading your bible

For the word of God is alive and powerful. It is sharper than the sharpest two-edged sword, cutting between soul and spirit, between joint and marrow. It exposes our innermost thoughts and desires. Hebrews 4:12 NLT

When I read Scripture consistently, it starts speaking to the very things I’m concerned about or praying through. Not in a spooky or mystical way—but in a clarifying one. Things surface. Patterns become obvious. Convictions get clearer.

I heard someone say once that when you read the Bible, the Bible reads you. It sounds a little strange at first, but I’ve found it to be true.

When I was thinking a lot about promotion and leadership, I found myself spending time in 1 and 2 Kings. Reading about the different kings in the Old Testament was surprisingly grounding. Over and over, I saw the same themes: leaders relying on other people instead of God, taking credit for success that wasn’t theirs, trying to please the crowd instead of obeying God, ignoring warning signs until it was too late.

None of it felt random. These were exactly the lessons I needed at that stage of my life. They gave me language for things I wanted to avoid and wisdom I could actually put into practice as I took on new responsibilities at work.

The key word here is consistent.

This isn’t about reading the Bible once in a while when something is wrong. It’s about staying with it long enough for it to shape how you think and lead and decide. I’m reading through a Bible-in-a-year plan again with my church, and it’s going well. It wasn’t perfect—there were moments when it felt shaky—but I paused, reset, and got back on track.

And that’s part of the process too.

Reading the Bible isn’t about speed or streaks. It’s about showing up, again and again, and letting God speak over time.

What might God be trying to show you—not all at once, but over time—if you stayed with His Word a little longer than usual?